


The Magic Kingdom

by StarlingChild4



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Disney World & Disneyland, F/M, Fluff, Harmony Goes to Disney World, Hermione is a Disney nerd because I said so, Post-Canon, and Harry goes along with it, because here they're in love, because why not?, in the fluffy department, originally posted on ff.net, slightly OOC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:41:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25247041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlingChild4/pseuds/StarlingChild4
Summary: Hermione's childhood love for Disney reemerges shortly after marrying Harry, and so she decides out of the blue to take a vacation with her husband to Orlando, Florida at the Walt Disney World Resort. Set six years after the Battle of Hogwarts in which Harmony is endgame.Originally posted on ff.net on Oct. 14, 2017
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 41





	The Magic Kingdom

"Harry! Harry, come look! It's just like in the book!" Hermione squealed, running down the narrow dirt paths from one "cave" entrance to another. "Here's 'Injun Joe's lair' -- I never did like that dreadful name, but, oh who _cares_ , it's Mark Twain! -- and it's just as dark and creepy and lovely and amazing as the scene when Tom and Becky are lost in the cave all night long, and--"

"Hermiiiione," Harry said in exasperation, but still grinning nonetheless. "Are you honestly gonna give me a lecture on every single element of this godforsaken place?" 

"I'm not lecturing, and it isn't godforsaken!" Hermione said in a huff, whirling around to glare at her husband. "I'm educating, and this is _Tom Sawyer's Island!_ It's based on an American classic!" 

"And we're British." 

"That's not the point!"

"Hermione, I'm teasing." 

"Hmph!"

Harry grinned and followed his wife as she mock-flounced away in annoyance. 

They had spent the last two hours at Disney's Magic Kingdom park in Orlando, Florida, day three of their month-long vacation. Just a few months before, Hermione got a wild notion in her head that she and Harry "needed" to take a vacation and it "simply had to be" at the place she secretly always dreamed of visiting. 

* * *

It all started on a cold winter night just past the New Year. Harry and Hermione had recently settled down in their new place, a little cottage just a few miles from the Burrow. They'd married on Christmas (to honor the night they spent alone at Godric's Hollow six years ago), and had finally finished unpacking a week into the New Year. 

Harry warmed up some cocoa, poured them each a drink, and then nestled on the sofa together, clutching their hot mugs and wrapped in a large quilt that Mrs. Weasley had given them as a wedding gift. Hermione was particularly excited for this night; the last item she had unpacked was dropped off by her father earlier that day. It was a large black box that would have puzzled Ron and intrigued Mr. Weasley, and even took Harry a moment to recognize it: a VHS player. 

Mr. Granger generously set up the cables and television set for the newlyweds, while Hermione eagerly searched through the numerous video tapes that came with the player, squealing with excitement over certain titles and wondering out loud to no one in particular what this one was about, etc. 

Harry, curious and slightly amused, joined his wife, glancing over the still faces (slightly weirded out that he'd gotten so used to wizardry photography, that seeing frozen Muggle pictures threw him off for a moment), and commenting that the more colorful covers looked like generic cartoons to Harry. 

But Hermione explained (after taking several deep breaths and closing her eyes, as if willing herself to have patience) that they were Disney movies, mainly from the "old days," when Walt Disney was still alive. 

"… Who?" Harry dared to ask. 

After that, he almost wished he never asked. She spent the entire rest of the day lecturing him (or "educating") on the iconic American tycoon who changed the course of animation forever with his successful, beloved animated movies. Most of the lingo flew over Harry's head, for though he was certainly raised by Muggles, it wasn't like they gave him a chance to be properly exposed to films or television. That was always the realm of Dudley, and sometimes, Uncle Vernon; Harry only dared to snatch a moment of TV for a minute at a time, so he couldn't even pretend he understood anything about the media itself. 

Hermione then went on a rant about how much she missed these "dear little stories" that she apparently watched over and over during her childhood (Mr. Granger laughed at that), and had only "taken a break for the sake of her studies" after she was accepted at Hogwarts. 

"That, and, well, Voldemort's return, I imagine put Disney on hold for a bit," Harry said sarcastically. 

"Er, well, yes, that, too," Hermione muttered, flushing red. "But that's not the point!" And so, she would go on. 

When Hermione finally ran out of breath, Mr. Granger finished setting up everything and took his leave. 

"They are nice little films," he said to Harry as they parted ways at the door, "but be warned: my daughter loves to give commentary at any given moment. If you want to fully experience them, you'd best do it when she's not at home or asleep." 

Harry nodded and went back into his little house to help Hermione prepare for dinner so they could enjoy their "movie night."

Several hours later, and three Disney movies down, Harry's eyes were drooping and felt heavier than lead. Though he vaguely enjoyed the stories of the films, Mr. Granger was right: Hermione wasted no time in spouting off fun facts, books-vs-film comparisons, and personal anecdotes of favorite scenes and childhood memories. In spite of it all, Harry did enjoy himself, mainly because hearing Hermione's bossy yet endearing voice talk endlessly was amusing, and glancing at her flushed, smiling face every so often was adorable. 

Two weeks later, and Harry had practically every Disney song playing in a loop in his head. Hermione seemed both pleased with the results and annoyed that it wasn't enough. 

Then, she spent days at a time out and about, coming home with arms full of brochures and magazine ads. Harry chose to ignore it, mainly because when he attempted to ask, Hermione snapped that she needed to figure this out alone. But then, around the end of the month of January, she burst into their home, beaming with pride and holding aloft a packet of tickets. 

"We _are_ going to Disney World, whether you like it or not, Harry James Potter!" 

* * *

It was now their third day at the world-famous tourist attraction, and Harry deep-down felt it was both overrated and overwhelming. The crowds of mindless people swarming the walkways, the cheesy shows and parades, and the overpriced and inadequate food would normally have been enough for him to say, "okay, enough is enough, we're going home."

But he couldn't disappoint Hermione. 

Just like during their Hogwarts days studying in the library, which was rather a bore for Harry, he couldn't help but enjoy himself a little because of Hermione's passion for reading. Here, in the crowded, loud theme park they called "Magic Kingdom," Harry's nerves would have normally been on edge if he was by himself. 

But with Hermione...

"Here!" she said, holding out a Mickey-Mouse-shaped ice cream bar. "Try it! It's tradition." 

Harry obediently took a bite. It was cheap chocolate wrapped around sweet vanilla ice cream. Hardly amazing. But somehow, in spite of himself, as he took another bite, while Hermione stared up at him eagerly, her bushy hair slightly squashed on top by her wearing Minnie Mouse ears, her brown eyes sparkling with anticipation.... he couldn't bring himself to remain cynical. 

"Delicious," he said with a smile, wiping his mouth with a napkin. 

"Isn't it?! Everything always tastes better here, because it's _here_ , you know? Oh, look!" Hermione shot off to a shop window, practically squealing over the merchandise displayed within. "Harry, they have Beauty and the Beast themed journals! Oh Merlin, I've got to get one of those..."

A loud popping sound burst in the air. Harry spun around, his hand instinctively reaching for his wand. But it was only fireworks, bursting over the castle at the center of the Park. 

"Why are they doing fireworks in the middle of the day?" Harry said aloud, trying to calm his racing heart. 

"Oh, it's the daylight castle show they do several times daily," Hermione said airily. "We saw the same show this morning, remember?" 

"Yeah, but I don't remember the fireworks," Harry muttered, following his wife into the shop. 

"Probably because you weren't paying attention."

The truth was that now that Hermione mentioned it, he did recall the castle show. It was cheesy and hopelessly fake, but Harry spent the whole time staring at Hermione's face, whose eyes were glued on the performers and her mouth lip syncing to lyrics she knew.

.

.

.

The sun's last rays of the day bled purple and pink colors, Harry's feet felt like someone filled them with lead, and Hermione still insisted on dragging him everywhere. At last, he put his foot down, saying he won't move another inch till they sit down and relax for a while. Hermione grudgingly obliged, though her eyes were soft with concern when Harry gratefully sat down with a deep, heavy sigh. 

At this point, they were bogged down with bags of merchandise (which, of course, they couldn't magically shrink away or hide in Hermione's useful bag because the Park was packed full of Muggles). Hermione did subtly cast a spell to make them much lighter, but they had to be careful that no one else moved or touched them by accident, and it was still rather awkward to carry so many bulking bags at a time. 

Hermione pleaded with Harry for them to stay and watch the nightly fireworks, so he agreed, under the condition that they remain rooted to the spot (a bench under a tree between "Adventureland" and the castle) until it was time to properly watch the show. Hermione agreed, and they sat quietly for a bit. 

Now that he was finally stopping for a rest, Harry allowed himself to observe his surroundings, and found himself.... pleasantly surprised. 

"You know, 'Mione, we should do this more often."

"Do what?"

"Just sit. Breathe. Watch." 

"B-but... there's so much to see! So much to do-!"

"Hermione, you bought the tickets. Have you forgotten that we're staying here another three and a half weeks?"

Hermione flushed and looked down at her feet. Harry smiled, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. Her face was burning red, and she murmured, "I'm sorry, Harry. I hope my.... excitement didn't ruin anything for you?"

"Nonsense," Harry scoffed. "I may have grumbled a bit here and there, but I wanted to have fun with you, my darling wife." He kissed her forehead, and looked off in the moving crowds again. "And besides..."

"What?"

"I guess," Harry's voice was soft, "I didn't realize until now just how many families are here. And how much fun they're having. Makes me wonder..."

Hermione didn't ask what this time, so instead, she wrapped her arms around Harry's waist and squeezed him tightly. "We'll take our time, from now on," she said. "You just remind me whenever I forget." 

"So, every five minutes?" 

"Oh, shut up." 

Night had officially fallen. An announcement overhead proclaimed that the firework show would begin in fifteen minutes. Harry and Hermione looked at one another. 

"Shall we, then?" Harry said, standing up and stretching. 

"Yes, let's," Hermione said, her voice almost trembling with suppressed excitement. 

Harry grinned and shook his head. "You know, you _can_ get more excited, 'Mione. I won't be upset or annoyed."

"Good! Let's go, then!" Hermione grabbed his hand and they hurried off towards the plaza center. 

And, surprisingly enough, Harry actually rather enjoyed the fireworks. But then again, he thought to himself, as he wrapped his arms around Hermione's waist and pressed her back to his chest, maybe it all depends on the company. 


End file.
